Better off dead
by AsgardianMermaid
Summary: Alternate story line to the series with OC. Reviews and criticism (of the constructive nature) are welcome, as always.


"Daryl". He waited, wondering if the call was worth his time. "Daryl?".

"Daryl?!". It couldn't have been that important, otherwise they'd look harder. "Where the hell is he?".

"What?" he finally snapped, putting the crossbow down and pulling away from a potential kill. He hadn't had deer in weeks, and it'd be a welcome change from gnawing on tough little squirrels. This was why he preferred to be alone. "Daryl…" Rick breathed as he came down the dusty slope. Their eyes locked as Daryl stood impatiently, crossbow pointed at the ground, still loaded. He could easily shoot this fucker and be done with it, but something in Rick's dark eyes told him it would be a waste of ammo. "What? What is so important that I lost a damn nice deer…?".

"I went back into the city. Me and Andrea. We found something down there" Rick was breathing heavily, which told Daryl that it must be an urgent matter. He unloaded the bow and put the arrow away, walking towards Rick as he did so. "Hey Daryl" Andrea shouted from the top of the slope, "Think you're going to like this".

"Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?". But nobody would. Rick and Andrea had already begun to move back towards camp. He followed the sound of their footsteps, keeping his distance. In the back of his mind, he suspected that it could be a trick. He was an outsider. He didn't even have Merle to be with anymore. "I don't like surprises" Daryl yelled at them, "Can't you just tell me what it is? I was kinda busy".

"That ruins it" Andrea shouted back from up ahead. He rolled his eyes and carried on following Rick, because that's what everyone else seemed to do. Follow Rick. Even though he was a bit of control freak, Daryl supposed he could learn to live with it. Though he definitely worked better alone. He'd survived on his own for so long, why couldn't he do that anymore? "Forget this, I'm going back to kill that fucking deer".

"Go 'head" Andrea took a deep breath and came a little closer to him, "But you told us a little bit about Lena, remember? Your friend that you had to leave behind when the walkers took over…".

"I don't need to be reminded about her" he spat, flaring up in anger. Rick stepped over to Andrea protectively, blocking the path of the arrow that seemed to find it's way back into Daryl's crossbow. "Well, it's like Andrea said. We found something in the city that we thought you might like. So just come back to camp with us and quit being so damn stubborn". Sulkily, he followed the two back through the trees. He could see the glow of the campfire through the brush. It was burning more than usual and the flames rose higher into the sky. Even though the fire was lit well and looked so inviting, nobody was gathered around it. Lori and Carl sat in the doorway of the RV below Dale who was on night watch and pacing up and down the roof, grief etched on his face. Concern was spread all over Lori's when it lit up in the embers. Daryl's brow furrowed in confusion. If he was going to like what Rick found in the city, then why did everyone else look so sombre? He considered the possibility of Merle's return, though he was sure that both Rick and Andrea knew that he wasn't overly fond of his brother. At least that's what he hoped. Once back in the camping area, the others were found around Daryl's tent, some right inside, some sitting on the grass quietly. As they got closer, they all kept their eyes on the ground, avoiding contact with his own. "Why's everybody look so glum if this is good?" he asked Andrea, feeling irritated. She half smiled and touched him lightly on the arm. "Just…go in. Stop asking questions and go in". She halted outside and joined Shane on the grass whilst Rick held open one of the flaps. Hesitantly he went inside and was welcomed by a very familiar scent. He had to stop himself from gagging at the vomit stains that had appeared on ground sheet. Carol was kneeing next to the compartment where he kept his sleeping bag and blankets, which he thought was slightly odd. He'd never even spoken to her properly, yet there she was. She had sweat beading on her forehead as she submerged a piece of cloth in a bowl of water beside her. Her expression was just as frustrated as Dale's, and as she turned to face Daryl when he walked in, her eyes avoided him. "How is she?" Rick asked, folding his arms and looking down at her. Carol returned to the damp cloth and placed it inside the compartment. Daryl was unsure whether to look or not, so he stayed by the opening in the tent instead. "She's holding up, her temperature is still pretty high but Dale had aspirin in the RV".

"Well, that's good. Daryl this is your tent, you can come in". Rick put a firm hand on his shoulder and guided him over to the sleeping bags. The familiar smell got stronger as he crouched down next to Carol. The smell of sickness. It matched the look of a sick person. And there was a sick person lay over his camp bed. His eyes saw her, but his brain refused to take it in. She was dead. Not sick. She was eaten alive by walkers back home. The loss was dealt with long ago. He'd come to terms with her being gone. He was over it. She was just a distant memory now, that haunted him every so often. Yet there she was. The beautiful face he'd missed for so long was here. Right in front of him. He sat there, gazing straight into her soft blue eyes for several minutes, dazed and confused. Then she began coughing. This confirmed that she was definitely not dead, yet confirmed his suspicions that she was infected. "Baby you going to sit there and stare at me or what?" she croaked. Daryl looked at Carol, who's face had a light smile on it. "Is she bit?" he asked, standing up and moving back over near Rick. The girl chuckled slightly and settled down again, pressing the cloth down onto her own forehead. "No she's not. And she isn't scratched either. But the way she's been living for a few weeks, alone in the middle of the walkers, I'm not surprised she has the flu".

"It's just a cold. Besides I been through worse things, right Daryl?".

"Don't talk to me" he was suddenly flaring up again, his face heating up with frustration, "You're supposed to be dead. And you're not". She tried retaliate, but ended up coughing over her own words, struggling for breath. Rick took Daryl aside as Carol tried to calm to girl down. "I was right in bringing her here, wasn't I? She's no danger to the group?".

"I thought she was dead, Rick. I only left her in my house alone because the walkers took over and she was cornered in the kitchen. I don't know how she got out but she did. I thought she was dead…I swear".

"You don't have to explain that to me. As long as we know who she is and that she's not infected, she can stay". Rick nodded and walked out of the tent, heading towards the RV where Lori and Carl were sat. Lena was wheezing and holding back a vicious cough when Daryl looked back over at her. He sniffed and began biting his thumb nail, which was already nervously bitten down far too much. "Carol?" he finally said, his eyes fixed on the pale, sweaty brunette coughing up unearthly matter all over his property, "Mind if I have a minute?". Carol did that thing where she gave Daryl a pitiful smile that made him feel patronised. He hated that. But he had other things on his mind. When she was gone, he slowly knelt down next to Lena and pressed the back of his hand on her cheek. It was like touching the embers of the camp fire. "How'd you get out, Lena?" he whispered, "It was near impossible to get out".

"".You left me in the kitchen, idiot. There's knives and forks in there…".

"How'd you know that would work?".

"I didn't. But you took my fucking crossbow so I had no choice".

"I thought you were dead".

"So you keep saying" she replied dryly, "When I get up, I'm going to take my crossbow and shoot you right in the balls". If you get up, he thought to himself. He admired how feisty Lena was, even after all that she'd been through and how sick she looked right then. He'd always loved her fight. He'd always loved her ways. He'd always really loved her. But he'd never told her. "You wouldn't want to shoot me in the balls Lena" he said slowly, "They might come in handy". He winced as the words escaped his mouth. He needed to distract himself away from that. He needed to focus on helping Lena and then helping Rick. That's all. "You're right, that target is way too small, even for my eyes". If anyone else had attempted to make a joke like that, he wouldn't of found it amusing. But this gorgeous girl lying in his bed, who had the flu and who'd already been dead before, she could make any joke and he'd find it hilarious. "You know how to shoot a gun. We have spares. You can use them instead".

"It's my damn crossbow Daryl Dixon and I will fight for it". She started coughing again as she tried to raise her voice. A smirk spread over his face whenever she attempted to threaten him. He knew she'd never do anything.


End file.
